


To Bank Robbers,  Klingons, and Vulcans

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Angst, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Courtroom, Guest Stars, Humor, Lawyers, M/M, Old Friends, Short Story, Some aliens - Freeform, clients, former friend, male-male friendship, trial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It made perfect sense to  Denny on why today he and Alan had two nutcases. They had a Star Trek co-star as their opposing council.</p><p>My first Boston Legal fanfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Bank Robbers,  Klingons, and Vulcans

"Why does it seem we are always assigned two clients for the same case?" Alan asked.

"Denny Crane," Denny said. "Because _Boston Legal_ calls for it."

"I feel like I am in a TV show."  Alan said.

"I would be the not-so love interest to your not-so-love interest." Denny said.

"The unreliable men when it comes to being gay." Alan said.

"Which we are not." Denny said.

"Well, Denny, the viewers certainly think we are."  Alan said.

"This is not the episode where we get married." Denny said.

"You have been thinking of getting married with me?" Alan asked, as he raised an eyebrow with his head turned in Denny's direction while they were walking down the hall past the numerous cells. The mere thought of marrying Denny felt entirely plausible given their relationship. Alan loved Denny. Denny loved Alan. The two loved each other. Given their relationship, it was as though they were married but not legally. Denny and Alan tend to call each other Flamingos.

"Not that I have been thinking about it," Denny said. Alan lowered his eyebrow. "Besides if I had, the ratings would flunk." Denny continued with a wave of a hand. "We would lose all our funds for next season."

"Why?" Alan asked.

"Networks hate promoting LGBT." Denny said.

"Well, that is just rude." Alan said.

"They do not say it openly but they sure as hell do cancelling any ideas of gay men in a given TV show," Denny said. Alan made a mental note to himself to look up the statistics of gays appearing in TV shows. George Takei was a well known gay celebrity. "Our show would have ended earlier if I considered marrying you last season. Even though we have a black man for president. . . Progressiveness is slow when it comes to television networking."

"It is 2008," Alan said. "And you republicans are stalling that change."

Denny shrugged.

"Well, it's the viewers fault. Keep watching men making out with women and not say a word about change," Denny said. "I once sent one of my complaints to _ABC_."

"Denny, I did not take you for a gay rights advocate."  Alan said.

"No worry, not that _ABC_." Denny said, shaking his hand.

"There is only one _ABC_." Alan said.

"Not the channel _Freeform._ " Denny said

"Denny, what is that?" Alan said.

" _ABC family_. Name will change in a decade, and the ABC I am referring to is _ABstraCtical_." Denny said.

" _Abstrastical_." Alan repeated.

"Yes." Denny said.

"How do you know about that word?" Alan asked, looking over toward Denny. "You can not remember words like that."

Denny had a sheepish smile.

"I just think of the word abstrical and hypocritical when it comes to the sex shown on the channel."  Denny admitted.

The jail guard opened the door before the two men letting them in.

"Call for me when you are done." The jail guard said.

"We can do that." Alan said.

The jail guard closed the cell door behind the two men. There were two men side by side at the table. One was a fully grown man lacking hair and another man who had hair. The older man had red eyes and seemed to have been caught in the middle of crying while the younger man had one hand on the older man's shoulder attempting  to comfort him. There was strain in the younger man's eyes. The younger man was black. The older man was a white male in his late fifties lacking hair. The younger man's knees were trembling together.

"Denny Crane," Denny said. "The man who can get you acquitted."

"Alan Shore," Alan said, as he and Denny came to the table. "We are your lawyers."

"So what did you do?" Denny asked. The two lawyers sat down into the chairs. "Have sex out in public?"

"No. My name is Simon Brockly and this is my son Ashton Brockly," Simon said.  "We attempted to rob a bank."

"We had to do it to save my mother." Ashton said.

"Your mother?" Alan asked.

"She was. . ." Simon briefly closed his eyes. "The Police said there is no proof she existed or is in any peril." His fist on the table rolled up. "And she is dead because the bank tellers couldn't just follow our lead. The Boston Police could not afford to help us! People in distress who need their help! And my sun shine i-- " He closed his eyes appearing to be angry and sad all at once. "My . . . sunshine is probably dead.":

"We had a letter written to the bank teller," Ashton said. "We needed only one thousand three hundred forty-three dollars that we did not have in exchange for her freedom."

"One thousand dollars." Alan repeated.

"That is very specific." Denny said.

"Why not one million?" Alan asked.

The two men were silent.

"You won't believe us."  Ashton said.

"Try us." Alan said.

The two shared a glance then turned their direction toward the lawyers.

"Some aliens thought one thousand was enough to pay for her life for her safe return." Simon said.

"Mexicans?" Denny asked.

"No." Ashton and Simon said.

"I have a rough idea what a alien is." Alan said.

Denny turned his head in the direction of Alan.

"We have to eliminate what kind of aliens he is talking about, Alan," Denny said. Then Denny turned his head in the direction of the two bank robbers. "What about Russians?"

"No." Simon said.

"Italians?" Denny asked.

"No." Simon said.

"Germans?"  Denny asked.

"Aliens."  Ashton said.

"My son is half Klingon." Simon said.

There was silence in the room as Alan's reserved demeanor did not change.

"So he is half black, what about it?"  Denny asked.

"He is an alien." Simon said. Denny rolled an eye. Alan appeared to be _fascinated_. "My wife is half Klingon, half Human. She rarely goes out these days . . . But when Kartha does, she plays the Muslim card. Don't want a planet wide panic of aliens taking over the planet." His hands were squeezing together. "But yesterday. . . Those damn Romulans found her. Don't know how they did it but they did!"

Simon smacked his fist on the table at the fuming Denny.

"Wait just a second--" Denny started to say getting up.

"Denny." Alan abruptly cut Denny off taking his shoulder. "Give us a moment to confer about the case and how we are pleading."

"Not guilty." The two men said.

Alan and Denny came to the corner of the room. Ashton had a clear forehead. He looked nothing like an alien. Alan could tell that Denny didn't like the alien card being played. Denny was a man of many things but believing in someone who claimed they were the real deal couldn't even be more possible. Alan, unlike Denny, had belief that there was indeed aliens out there. They were not alone in the universe. Republicans view on the idea of aliens in outer space were a different story.

"He doesn't have a forehead crest." Denny said.

"So?" Alan asked.

"He is not half Klingon." Denny said. "He is a nut case."

"We could give them the benefit of a doubt." Alan said.

"And plead insanity?"  Denny asked.

"Well, they did dress up as the captain and the commander." Alan said. "That is perfectly sane."

"The boy should have dressed up as the security officer not the commander. Was Mister Spork black? No. That is Mister . . ." Denny snapped his fingers. "Tuwek. And now with the alien card being played. . . ." Denny sighed. "I will lose this case to a couple of insane men. Defending the son? I will lose.  I do not want to lose. My legacy will be tarnished!"

Alan put one hand on Denny's shoulder.

"You are not going to lose," Alan said. "And we are going to win this case."

The two lawyers turned in the direction of their clients as Alan let go of Denny's shoulder.

"Tell us everything that you left out." Denny said.

* * *

The two men had come into court house. Much like they did every week except there was no competition between them. All they needed for a acquittal was reasonable doubt. Denny and Alan were like the Earth and the Moon in orbit. One could never find them never apart, or simple, inseparable. Their clients were being taken to the court room through their own means. They went in together into the elevator. Alan pressed a button on the right hand side to the doorway inside the elevator. The doors closed in front of the two men.

"Denny Crane." It belonged to a familiar person.

Denny looked down with a surprised look on his face.

"Bethany?" Denny said. Alan leaned forward looking down in the direction of Bethany. "What brings you here? I haven't seen you often this season."

"And what about the scene you claimed that you never want to see him again?" Alan asked.

"I have a case that is less high profiled than you and it certainly is not interesting for your ears." Bethany folded her arms.

Denny looked over toward Alan.

"Even the guest-stars don't know we are going to lose this case," Denny said. "This is going to mark my demise by mad cow." He tapped on the temple of his head.

"Relax,Denny," Alan said.  "The mad cow has not progressed from the last MRI."

"What if it does?" Denny asked, sounding unsure with that genuine look of fear on his face.

"Well," Alan said. "You are Denny Crane. You are the second main character of this show."

"Damn right." Denny said.

Sometimes Alan was struck by the idea of opening his own firm for free legal aid for the poor. The idea had started coming up this year. He had a bad feeling about this year, really, 2008. Something was bound to happen within this year's Christmas period. Christmas was a moment in time where everything was fun, cozy, and happy. Everything would be fine in moment of time. It was the middle of the year, after all. But Alan couldn't imagine doing it without his best friend. It was just an idea, after all. Alan could see the familiar look of pride on his friend's face. Denny hadn't developed the damn terminal disease, yet, but he always could. What would he do without him? Alan made a promise to Denny. Alan would be damned for not keeping his word. He bought the gun specifically for the task.

Shoot to the head in Oregon. Denny once told Alan. _"Live by the gun, die by the gun."_ Alan contemplated pulling the trigger on himself after fulfilling his promise. But he couldn't. There was one last part of the promise to fulfill: dumping Denny's ashes over his balcony. Then dumping the rest into Nimmo Bay. The world would have been empty without Denny and there wouldn't be a reason for Alan to stick around. Alan had countless times told Denny his world wouldn't be much without him. His dull world brightened up with the comment _"What's with the tie, soldier?"_ and turning in the direction of who-ever-said-that-comment. Alan wouldn't know what to do when he lost Denny. Well, exactly,Alan would be alone again. Much like his late wife left him through death. Till death did they part. And he feared losing the person most close to him: Denny Crane. A big lover of life. Someone who took Alan on trips when he was down or when the other was down, anyway.

No more sitting on the balcony with his best friend with a cigar and a drink.

That day was far, far away as far as Alan was concerned.

"And what brings you here?" Bethany asked.

"Two nut cases." Denny said.

"Nut-cases." Bethany repeated.

"One of them claims to be half alien." Alan said.

Bethany laughed.

"You always get the weird cases." Bethany said.

"They didn't exactly come walking into our offices." Alan said.

With a ding the doors opened to show a bunch of reporters unlike how it was originally thought to go down. They were supposed to have a clear path to the courtroom. Denny had a surprised expression on his face. Bank Robbers didn't get that much press in their arraignment. Zero. Except if they were high profiled individuals which in this case was not the ordeal. Denny saw his former fling Gracie Jane among the paparazzi. Denny took Alan's arm.

"Here we go again." Alan said, in his most reserved but calm demeanor.

The two men came out of the elevator in the walk style that was seen in slow motion then picked up speed.

"Mr Crane, are you defending an alien?" A reporter asked.

"Denny Crane," Denny said. "I used to be a police officer."

"Mr Crane,do you have any comments?" A second reporter asked.

"Denny Crane," Denny said. "Been getting canceled since the sixties."

"Mr Shore, do you have a comment?" A third reporter asked.

"No, get of my way, please, thank you,pardon me, excuse me." Alan said.

"Denny Crane," Denny said. "Used to date Shirley Schmidt."

Some of the reporters stopped in their tracks dumb founded with nothing but nonsense coming from Denny Crane. There were other comments such as "Denny Crane, Trix are for kids.", "Denny Crane, to infinity and beyond.", "Denny Crane, please buckle up and take an air-bag for the lift off.", "Denny Crane, I am your father.", "Denny Crane, ET go home.", "Denny Crane, live long and prosper." That were useless for reporting. There were puzzled expressions on the reporters face. One of them frankly said to themselves, mentally, "Ah screw it, that is just Denny Crane losing his mind." since it was well known that old age was coming on him. More forgetful than he was usually. But then again Denny made these comments usually when heading to court.

"Coming through." Bethany's voice was overheard.

The reporters turned their attention away from the two directly toward the dwarf coming down the hall passing by Gracie Jane. Alan opened the door letting Denny in. Bethany went past them with a crowd of reporters following her. How did they keep up with her was a mystery to Alan but it was something that he did not spend his time wondering on. They were asking questions regarding a big case. One that had been circulated on the news channel last night. It was big. Had a blue chip client, who was a celebrity, suing for medical malpractice. Denny Crane made his way to the front of the courtroom then sat down into the chair in front of the table with Alan by his side. Alan looked over to see the usual people who probably came to see how it would bow out.

There were not that many reporters in the room.

He could tell because there was a young woman tapping her pen on her notepad and god, did she look attractive. Most women in the population did not like to be objectified as a sex object and then there are those who are frustrated that they are not objected by men who they deem attractive because their smoke signals come out rather shaky and misunderstood that they do not want to be objectified. Denny once made a comment about that on the balcony one night regarding women being objectified. Alan turned away from the woman's direction.

"We have the easiest judge for this case." Denny said.

Alan saw the plague on the counter reading 'Hon. Clark Brown'. He was surprisingly still out. Unlike a certain other judge, in his old years, been hospitalized. That was Robert Sanders. That one time Sanders gave confusing orders regarding who had won the case. Denny had talked about it. Brad once mentioned how he was there to officiate the wedding. Sanders and Brown, as rumors said, were very close. Got along very easily as Denny had once claimed. Harvey Cooper could have joined their club for 'old and senile men who are irritated and frustrated by Alan and Denny' but he was not old enough for that.

Opposing council was District Attorney Robert Blakeson reading a novel, "A tale of two cities'.

Blakeson appeared as though he had some plastic surgery or just that he has aged very well. He had one knee over the other leaned to the back rest of his chair lacking glasses. Blakeson was tapping his free shoe on the floor lightly. The pages of the novel were yellow and seemed to be well aged as he. He appeared to be in his late fifties. Blakeson wore a bowtie rather than a standard tie. Blakeson did not wear a watch nor a wedding ring so it became apparent that this is a single man who can keep track of time mentally.

"We are not going to use nancy pansy." Alan said.

Denny appeared to be baffled as their clients were escorted to the table.

"Why?" Denny asked, leaned toward Alan.

"Because this is a bank robbery case," Alan said. "And we can use that on a different occasion."

"It worked, regardless." Denny said,straightening himself in the chair.

"We are not bestowing humiliation on the judge."  Alan said.

"You are no fun." Denny said, folding his arms with a pout. 

"Of course I am," Alan said, sarcastically.  "Whatever would you do without me?"

"I would hate working at the firm." Denny said.

"And be bored of life." Alan said.

"Yes."  Denny said.

"Sleepover?" Alan asked.

"Let me think about it." Denny said.

"All rise." Came the announcement. "Honorable Judge Clark Brown Presiding."

The councils and the defendants rose up. Alan combed his hands down his tie. It was a habit that Alan did including buttoning his suit up when giving a opening and closing. The door opened to Brown's chamber letting out the short old man. There was a bookmark in the novel being read by Blakeson now laid on the table. There was fear in Ashton's eyes. His future could be decided in this very building. Simon was virtually afraid. Brown sat down into the chair.

"Court is in session."  The bailiff said.

Brown looked up to see the least liked people in his courtroom and he did not seem to be pleased at all. He could see the two defendants were scared. Frightened. Not many defendants who came before him in his years of being a judge did they have that look on their faces. Well, actually, there were a lot of them in various situations. Their eyes held a rather sad kind of fear. The two men were pinned together almost as though they were threatened with separation.

"What are the charges?" Brown asked.

"Charges are attempted bank robbery, and our clients plead not guilty under temporary insanity." Alan said.  
  
"They threatened thirteen civilians," Blakeson said. "Threatened to blow the bank up, attempted to murder one security officer, and wore Spock/Kirk masks complete with the uniform from _The Original Series_. Logically, that means they were sane before the bank robbery."

Denny looked over, then he had a delighted expression on his face, to see familiar guest star on his show while Judge Brown smacked his gravel.  
  
"I will not have arguing in my courtroom!" Brown said.  
  
"We request a trial, your honor." Denny spoke up.

Their clients eyes boggled while Alan appeared to be not surprised. Denny and Alan had already conferred about it on the way out of the jail cell to risk losing. They came to a agreement about it without consulting their clients. Alan was reassured that they will win.  Alan even rose Denny's hopes. Unlike the previous time they were in a pickle, the doctors could not pin blame on the two clients.  It was Denny's idea that they investigate it to be sure that they were nut-cases for the sake of Alan's curiosity. Denny claimed not to be interested because he knew they were nut cases. Now if there were green exotic alien women to have sex with that would be a entirely different story.

"Your clients are logically not going to get a acquittal," Blakeson said. "And you should take a plea deal,Mr Shore, Mr Crane."  
  
"We get it, Mister Spock," Denny said. "You don't like loosing to Denny Crane."

Blakeson stared in Denny's direction, stoic, that was very much like a glare.

"Negative." Blakeson said.

"Oh, but you will." Denny said.

"Enough!" Brown smacked his gravel with a loud smack.

"We request bail, your honor," Alan said. "They have strong ties in the community and no known criminal record."

"I object," Blakeson said. "They have recently attempted to rob a bank. They could do it again."

"Bail is denied,"  Brown said. "Trial starts at 2:30."

* * *

Usually it would take a day to a week to a day for a episode of Denny Crane's _Boston Legal_ to end. Unlike _General Hospital,_ this was not a soap opera but a coherent story that ended threads within an hour. Alan saw how Denny viewed his life. At one point, Denny said "Viewers always adore the lovable jerks." when in a discussion with Alan and Shirley just last week. Alan had been assured the trial would be relatively smooth. All he had to plant was reasonable doubt. That Ashton and Simon were forced to do it. Or were genuinely insane at the moment. Both can be used if possible. Give them less prison time if it came back a guilty verdict. Denny and Alan had a ten thousand bet over it.

Alan did it for the sake of fun.

And Denny would be ten thousand dollars richer.

"If you want to get to the lawyer, compliment his human side." Denny said.

"Denny, he is not a alien." Alan said.

"So? He has the stoic attitude of a Vulcan. He will become emotionally compromised and have his co-council take the reign." Denny said.

"So who is it?" Alan said.

"The co-council?" Denny said, followed by a nod from Alan. "Elizabeth Warden aka I-like-scissors to turn me on."

"You didn't." Alan said.

"I did." Denny said.

"And here I thought I got most of the women." Alan said.

Denny had a fond smile on his face.

"It was the best thirteen hours of my life." Denny said.

Alan looked up from his paper with a look of disbelief.

"Thirteen _hours_?" Alan asked, appalled.

"Yes." Denny said, only with a grin.

Alan was unable to form a reply.

His word salad would really come in handy right about now.

"Denny. . . That is. . ." Alan said.

"Remarkable?" Denny finished. "That is what she said. Denny Crane."

There was a gentle knock on Alan's door. The two men's attention turned in the direction of the door to reveal Paul.

"Why hello Paul," Denny said. "We were talking about the usual."

"Sex, Taylor Swift, and how every president seems to age faster in the white house." Alan added.

"Can I speak with Alan, alone?" Paul asked.

"Whatever you have to say to me can be said with Denny." Alan said.

"It is about Denny and Blakeson." Paul said.

"That is my cue." Denny got up from his chair. "Robbie is still skinny as a stick. Much like you." One glare from Paul made his message clear. "I will get out of your hair."

Denny made his way out of Alan's office and closed the door behind him.

"So what do I need to know about Blakeson and Denny that I do not know all ready?" Alan said.

"Do not heed Denny's advice with Robert," Paul said. "It will only get you an unwanted enemy out of him." He was in the middle of the room. "I was there when it all . . ." There was a pause. "Exploded. Before you came into the picture with Denny being self-destructive with the firm and himself. Frankly,  Denny had just come out of a forty year friendship that ended on bad terms you do not want to re-ignite."

"Fifty years?" Alan asked.

"Yes, fifty years," Paul said, with a  nod. "And to be honest, Robert does not a give a damn about Denny's personal drama. So do not bring it up." It occurred to Alan that Paul was prepping him for going up against Blakeson. "And be you mostly. Your long closings tends to overrule the short closings."

Alan nodded.

"That can be done." Alan said. "But what happened between Blakeson and Denny?"

"Oh, Denny being Denny," Paul said. "Except it was on a level of betrayal. It was for a case. A high profiled one."

"I understand." Alan said. "And it will not happen to us."

"Why?" Paul asked. "Because you are _flamingos_?" Earning no reaction from Alan. Paul shook his hand. "Forget I asked."

Paul left Alan's office.

* * *

The first eyewitness was a man in his late forties and he was wearing a toupee. He had on a pair of glasses. A blind eyewitness, just what he needed. Denny was gawking at the blind man, mildly contemplating to himself how it would be like for him if he lost his eyesight due to old age. Denny did not wear glasses. His eyesight was keen as it ever was in his life. But then again it can always degrade. Alan got up from the chair sliding his hand down his tie then buttoned his suit up.

"What did you hear at the time of the robbery?"

"The father was panicked, and sounded very unsure of himself."

"And?"

"The sound of a forty-eight caliber being taken out."

"How do you know that?"

"Guns have very distinctive weights. I handled them long before my vision was gone."

Alan had a pause.

"All right," Alan said, coming to the side. "Mr Harvey, when you were on the floor. . . Did they threaten you?"

"No," Harvey said. "They were more focused on getting the money and breaking free someone named Kartha."

Alan raised an eyebrow.

"But the tapes show they were not speaking English." Alan said.

"They spoke Klingon, sir," Harvey said, as Alan's eyebrow came down. "I come from the Community of Klingon Speakers.  I understand and speak Klingon."

Denny's eyebrows shot up and he appeared to be the slightest of all interested.

"Really?" Alan asked.

"Yes. I can speak Klingon if you like." Harvey offered.

Alan turned in the direction of Brown.

"Your honor, may the eyewitness speak in Klingon?" Alan asked.

"Long as he translates it." Brown said.

Alan turned his head in the direction of Harvey.

"Go on." Alan said.

Harvey then spoke fluently in Klingon complete with subtitles underneath. Blakeson's co-council jotted down notes on her paper sitting alongside him. Alan had listened intently even though he had no idea what was being said. Least that can be said is that Alan appeared to be fascinated. Fascinated. Harvey returned to speaking English by making the comment, "I actively speak Klingon in my social life. That is how I am sure."

"Repeat what you said in English." Alan said.

"They, themselves, had not expected the police to be there." Harvey said. "I never heard a man, who had intentions to rob a bank, be afraid. When they tried to aim at us  . . . their hands was shaking and their aiming was off. The father had the safety mode still on. The son, however, had his safety mode off. He was rather detached from the bank robbery. It was like the son was not in control."

"How do you know the safety mode was on?" Alan said.

"The gun makes a clicking sound when someone attempts to fire it on safety." Harvey said.

"Thank you, Mr Harvey," Alan said, then he came to the bench and looked over in the direction of Blakeson. "Your witness."

Blakeson stood up from the chair closing the notepad with his notes.

"Mr Harvey, did they mention anything about killing anyone?" Blakeson asked.

"Yes, sir." Harvey said.

"Can you tell us were they nearby you at the start of the robbery?"  Blakeson asked.

"I was right in front of them. My dog, Lucifer," A golden retriever sat by the bench with head on his paws appearing to be unsettled to be separated from his master. "Growled at one of them. It had to be the boy as Lucifer had no quells with the father. The father had been kind toward Lucifer."

* * *

"Do you love Denny Crane?" Blakeson asked.

Alan looked up toward Blakeson at the table.

"I thought that everyone knew." Alan said.

Blakeson did not seem to be amused by what Alan said.

"Do. You. ** _Love_. ** Denny. Crane?" Blakeson emphasized.

There was a long pause between the men as Alan studied Blakeson.

"I do." Alan said, after ending the long pause.

"I used to serve on the same ship with Denny," Blakeson said. "Exploring the rims of outer space, exploring new worlds, saving lives, and being scolded by the nearest doctor on board." Blakeson took a sip of the beer then lowered the cup down. "It was not very long ago that we went our separate ways."

"You are a friend of Denny's?" Alan asked.

"Once," Blakeson said. "But not now."

"What did he do?" Alan said.

Blakeson cleared his throat.

"The whole point you asked me to a gay bar is understanding the familiarity he shares with me," Blakeson said. "Being called correctly by a name he shouldn't remember right unless he knew him personally alarms you. He can't say the name Spock right when around lawyers or ordinary people. Logically, you are more than interested to know if your friend is homosexual or heterosexual or both. I am not under the position to tell you so."

"Denny is not ordinary." Alan said.

"That he is." Blakeson agreed.

"I worked for the military for a secret mission." Alan said. "Got screwed over. And started all over."

"Denny Crane is a man of compassion," Blakeson said. His eyes lowered down toward the table. "Or once was."

"Was?" Alan asked.  "He loves life."

"I am talking about a different compassion, Mr Jackson." Blakeson said.

Alan froze.

"I used to work for the military. You don't know what the military and the air-force are doing twenty-four-seven to ensure the safety of this world. God, do I envy you for not knowing." Blakeson clasped his hands together. "It would be illogical to you know about the truth given your . . ." Blakeson made a wave with his elbow leaned against the table. "Inferior position in society." Alan raised an eyebrow. "I once had my hands become dirty for the sake of national security for what you went through and what someone was risking to expose to the world. If you hurt Denny, I will tell them about the accident. The accident where two Daniel Jacksons walked straight out of a wormhole in two places. You will suffer a fate far worse than death."

Alan cleared his throat.

"I don't know about you," Alan slid forward, putting his hands together on the table with a tinge of hurt in his tone of voice by what Blakeson was insulating. "I would never hurt Denny."

The brown pairs of eyes were daggers to Alan.

"Denny's six wives told me that, and they failed him." Blakeson said.

Blakeson left the _"And you could be the seventh."_ part out.

"Who else knows?" Alan asked.

"Paul." Blakeson said.

"Paul?" Alan asked.

"Affirmative."  Blakeson said.

"Wow. . . . This . . goes deep." Alan said, leaning back.

"You would not want to know what his secret is." Blakeson said.

"What is it?" Alan said.

"Baby powder." Blakeson said.

"Nice joke." Alan said.

"A story with a humorous climax." Blakeson said. "That, my reply was not. It was a punchline."

"So  . . ."  Alan asked. "Why did you come back?"

"I heard two flamingos running around and had to see it for myself. I will be returning to California." Blakeson said. "And your sleep overs are well known. Barry Goal complains about not having his own Alan Shore counterpart."

"You used to work there?" Alan asked.

"Negative," Blakeson said. "I always oppose him when we meet."

"Denny has--" Alan started but was cut off by Blakeson.

"Negative." Blakeson finished.

"Why?" Alan said.

"I would prefer not knowing." Blakeson said, then he took a sip of his drink. "At all."

"Would you consider getting proof that the story my client say is true?" Alan said.

"That is illogical," Blakeson said. "Romulans have no interest in abducting Klingons."

"She used to be a warrior. A well known one who assassinated highly political figures. Half human as I was told." Alan said.

"Did he say anything about the name Karticen?" Blakeson asked.

"Yes, he did." Alan said.

Blakeson took out his wallet then put cash on the cup.

"Do not investigate it any further if you value your life, Mr Shore." Blakeson said, getting up as he put his wallet into his side pocket.

"Is that a threat?" Alan asked, narrowing his eyes in the direction of Blakeson.

"It's a warning," Blakeson said. "Do not get involved. It is only logical for a lawyer to not stick his neck out in a case like this."

"Understood." Alan said.

"Stay. Out. Of. It." Blakeso said, then he left the table leaving Alan behind.

* * *

Usually Alan would dispatch a Private Investigator to find out if the client was telling the truth. But there was only one place that Simon insisted had evidence of her being there, alive, breathing, interacting, and pictures of her existence. Alan planned to have a drink with Denny on the balcony and tell him what he discovered tonight. Simon had given Alan the address to the house and said the door was not locked. It was dark outside with a cool temperature.  But for the rest of the quick investigation regarding Kartha, Alan would have to dispatch the private investigator.

Alan came to the ajar door.

It was a nice neighborhood.

_"We did not touch anything," Simon had said. "We left it just the way we found it."_

Alan slid the door forward followed by a creak. He entered the house then felt around for a switch. His hand caught the side of a surface that was elevated so Alan slid the switch up. The darkness was replaced by a bright light in the entrance way. Alan could see that there had been some form of firefight here. Upside down counter. Walls with holes in them. The wall along the rail had a huge hole in it revealing the closet. Alan ventured his way through the house. The kitchen had silverware dug into the ceiling including a trash can. The barstools were in pieces all over the place. The long poles were discarded under the table. The flat edge with the cushion were beside the window to the backdoors with a chunk of it missing. Alan looked over to see the back doors had been broken down.

No sign of evidence she existed?

This was evidence.

The police must have believed it was staged.

No signs of blood.

Nothing to indicate someone was hurt.

"Interesting. . ." Alan said.  He looked over to see picture frames that had Ashton and Simon together. In some of them it appeared as though someone had taken the liberty to rip a piece out then put it back inside the frame. He could tell because of the edges. "Who ever took the time to do this was really determined that she not exist."

Alan heard a buzzing from nearby.

"Hm?" Alan said, looking around.

**Buzz!**

There it went again.

**Buzz!**

"What is making that sound?" Alan said.

**Buzz!**

Alan went into the dining room that was entirely a mess. The table was smashed. There were visible burn marks here and there as the buzzing continued on. The buzzing became louder. Alan knelt down then gently took the bars off the wooden surface. Alan put the wooden surface to the side. He could see a flip-phone like device on the floor. It was different to the standered flip-phone because it lacked a screen and a antenna. It appeared to be genuinely an old antique ripped out of _Star Trek._ If the buzzing was alarming Alan, he made no sign of that. Alan picked up the device,stood up, then flipped it open.

"This is Alan Shore," Alan said. "Who is calling?" He came into the kitchen. "I have two clients who would like their family member back. Think you can return her body? Her nickname is Kartha and she is dressed in attire that would normally be seen on a individual from Earth. Yes, the planet you just left. I can inform my federal government of aliens abducting its citizens or I can forget this happened. What do you choose?"

There was a unusual melody heard and Alan vanished in a blue bright haze of light.

* * *

Where the hell was Alan?

Denny had checked Alan's office and knocked multiple times on Alan's hotel door. Dave suggested (His limo driver) that Alan was probably busy from last night. Something new had been discovered that could potentially change the outcome of their case. That made Denny decide not to call Alan right then. He had that much assurance that his flamingo would be in court. Denny got out of the limo taking his suitcase with him. Alan and Denny had done their opening arguments separately. They both believed their opening arguments were fantastic and worthy of another emmy. Enough to sway a jury.

But where the hell was Alan?

Denny made his way through the doors then made it to the security checkpoint. Every day he went through this ordeal and today, he did. He was greeted by,  "Good morning, Mr Crane." by one of the security officers. Then given the pat. Then his suitcase was checked. They had to be sure he did not bring a gun and a terrorist newspaper like last time. Which was entirely Alan's fault. Not every day did they check his luggage. This was exceptional today because it involved bank robbers, Denny assumed, or because he was  Denny Crane. The one and only. Denny closed his luggage then made his way down the hall headed in the direction of the elevator. One of his co-stars once mistook for a 'turbo lift' which entirely freaked out a nervous eyewitness to cowering in the corner of the room pleading he didn't want to die by a elevator. It took some coaxing from Alan to make him rise.

Where was Alan?

Denny made his way into the elevator then pressed a button.

"Hello, Bethany." Denny said.

"How did you know I was here?" Bethany asked, in surprise.

Denny looked over.

"You are wearing strong perfume." Denny said.

"I am not wearing strong perfume." Bethany said.

"Then who is wearing strong perfume?. . ." The two looked over to see a male dwarf in the corner of the room with well kept hair.

They turned their attention away.

"So, did you get into argument with your 'flamingo'?" Bethany asked.

"No." Denny said.

"Usually I see you stuck together like thieves when it comes to going anywhere. When you are not together, you two are usually bickering or being arrested." Denny frowned. "I know what you are going to say. You got the charges dismissed, dropped, expunged, whatever word you would prefer to use." Denny sighed. "You are scared of losing Alan than you were of breaking up with me."

"What can I say?" Denny asked. "He is my flamingo."

"Oh my god, you love Alan more than you do with woman!" Bethany said.

"That is nothing new." Denny said. Denny flipped his phone out then looked at the screen with disappointment on his face. "No messages."

Denny had a sigh putting the phone away.

"Where is Alan?" Bethany asked.

"In court." Denny said.

In Denny's tone was a doubtful one.

"Denny. .  ."  Bethany said

**Ding!**

"Got to go." Denny whished past Bethany into the crowded hall. "Denny Crane, my poop is orange." Bethany followed after Denny exited.  "Denny Crane, my friend is out there. Denny Crane, no place like home. Denny Crane, deeply concerned for Alan Shore. Denny Crane, don't throw that apple. You can shoot someones eye out. Denny Crane, price-line negotiator. Denny Crane,been doing commercials for Huby and Abraham before you were born. Denny Crane, the tin man who'll never be a tin man."

Denny came to the doors of the courtroom then opened the first one as he went in. He saw at the defense table were Ashton and Simon looking over in his direction with please in his eyes. Yesterday three eyewitnesses were questioned. Today was the security guard's turn with a patched up shoulder. Denny did not know how they could fix up a shoulder within three days for someone to take the stand. Then again modern medicine was getting better every day. He strode his way toward the table as Ashton and Simon's eyes followed him holding the suitcase in one hand. He saw a man sitting in the prosecutor's chair with a woman beside him wearing a pair of glasses that were small. But petite for her build.

Denny came to the defense table then sat down at the table. Denny looked over, confused, not recognizing the district attorney at first. He was a man with graying hair. A pair of brown eyes. He had a 'tale of two cities' in his hand. Did he know this man? Felt like he should. Time to remind himself. Denny took a sigh briefly closing his eyes turning his head away. He had to do the usual reminders to himself when he got confused. He grabbed along the handle of the suitcase counting back to ten.

**Who was he?**

Denny Crane.

**How did he get here?**

Dave drove him here.

**Who he is defending?**

Ashton Brockly.

**What is the case about?**

Two men pleading insanity to robbing a bank.

**Who is the other defendant?**

Simon Brockly.

**Who is defending Simon--**

ALAN. WHERE IS ALAN?

"Mr Crane?" Brown's voice snapped him out of the trance.

Denny stood up.

"We request a continence, your honor," Denny said. "Co-council is unavailable."

"Make him available," Brown said.  "This is ridiculous. Continuance granted. Reassemble tomorrow afternoon at 1:45 PM. Court adjourned."

Denny's phone rang and his hands moved quickly to his pocket. He had a tough time keeping it in one hand seeing Alan's phone number on the top. He flipped it open after difficulty as one of the guards were headed in the direction of the two men.

"Alan," Denny said. "Where are you?" His eyes darted from side to side listening to the phone. "What do you mean you can't say?" He put one hand on the desk. "You can tell me!" Denny gestured to himself. "I am Denny Crane." He waved his free hand. "Your best friend!" Denny frowned. "Yes, they are with me." Denny handed the phone to Simon reluctantly. "She would like to speak with you."

Simon took the phone.

"Kartha? Kartha! Kartha, I'msosorryiamsosorryweshouldhave--" He broke out into sobs. "We should have gone to your planet. I am sosorryiamsosorryiamsosorryforallthis. I love you. I. . . I. . I am sorry. I love you, too."

Simon handed the phone to Ashton who spoke in Klingon. Shortly afterward the phone was returned to Denny. He had the phone pressed to his ear picking up the suitcase. He appeared to be not in a good mood. Blakeson seemed to be noticing this attitude watching the man turn away from the defense table. Not often did he see Denny in this mood during their forty year long friendship.

"Alan, why didn't you call me? What do you mean you are in space? And you are captured? Aliens are not real. Don't play that prank on me. Alan? What is that I hear? What do you mean you have short time to explain?  Why were you in the defendant's home? I told you not to investigate it yourself! Alan? What was that? Alan? ALAN!" The phone line ended abruptly.

Denny closed his phone then put it away heading toward the doors. There was concern easily read on his face. His mind was going all over the place. He considered telling Clarence because he was Alan's assistant. He had to know about his employer's livelyhood. This couldn't be real. But the exchange he had overheard sounded threatening for Alan. He made it to the hall where he was abruptly stopped by Blakeson.

"Denny--"  Blakeson started to say.

"Do I know you?" Denny interrupted, staring at Blakeson.

"Yes." Blakeson said.

"I think not." Denny said.

"Denny." Blakeson stopped him and stared Denny in the eyes. Blakeson saw a confused, panicked man who was afraid. Denny had no idea who he was in his current state. Suggestively, mentally, maybe, Blakeson sent a message through the eyes to Denny without even touching him. He never did this before on Denny but it was new and felt intrusive. It became apparent to Blakeson that plague was building in his brain. His memory was degrading. This wasn't the same man he once knew.  So, Blakeson went on to say after making the suggestion, "You do not remember me?"

"No idea who you are." Denny said.

"My name is Robert Blakeson," Blakeson said, calmly.  "Opposing council for the time being."

"Lakeson?" Denny repeated, raising a brow.

"Blakeson." Blakeson said.

"I have to go,Lakeson." Then he went past Blakeson.

Blakeson, for the first time in two days, had a look of horror on his face.  Then it changed to a look of conviction. Frankly, if Blakeson hadn't intervened with Denny then he would have made a fool of himself going through his well known secret and dodgy contacts to find Alan. Now Denny, instead, is going off to the office to write his closing argument or potentially revise it. Blakeson knew what had to be done. What happened with Kartha had gone too far. Blakeson should have known Alan would not have listened to him.

Elizabeth came to Blakeson's side.

"Was he out of it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Elizabeth, how about we meet up in the afternoon," Blakeson suggested, changing the subject. "I have other plans for this morning. One forty-three sharp."

"Legal Sea Food?" Elizabeth asked.

"Legal Sea Food." Blakeson reaffirmed.

A small smile briefly appeared on Elizabeth's face.

"See you, Robert." Elizabeth said, going past Blakeson.

Blakeson watched Elizabeth walk away then she disappeared down the hall and he took his phone out.

Time for negotiations.

* * *

Clarence knocked on Denny's door. 

"Come on." Denny said, jotting down on his notebook.

Clarence opened the door heading into the office.

"Mr Crane--" Clarence started to say.

"Denny Crane." Denny interrupted, looking up from the notebook.

"Denny," Clarence said, coming to a stop in front of the door. "Alan has not come in since last night. Have you heard from him?"

Denny had a moment of pause. Denny did a mental recap of the previous scene. Alan called. Denny gave the phone to Simon. Phone was returned. Alan alarmed Denny. Denny became panicked. The rest of the memory was distorted. He ran back through the memory a second before the distortion had come. Blakeson's figure was associated to confusion and novelty. Wait, but Denny knew Blakeson. Oh no, Denny had one of his episodes _in front of Blakeson_.

Denny then sighed.

"Yes," Denny said. "Alan is busy at the moment. With a girl."

Clarence nodded.

"Ah," Clarence said. "So will he be back in the afternoon."

"Of course," Denny said. "Man has to take his time with a good woman."

Clarence had a hearty laugh followed by one of his honest smiles then closed the door behind him as he left the office. Denny took his phone out checking if there were any new messages. Denny went through the distorted memory. He was approached by the unfamiliar man. He introduced himself--Oh god. The look on his face. Blakeson knows Denny has something other than mad cow. Denny rubbed the bridge of his nose leaning back into his chair. He hadn't been telling Alan the complete truth of his memory problems. It had recently progressed but how so? Denny had no idea. Denny did not need anyone's pity. No one's for that matter.

Denny pulled a drawer then took out a small black box. He stared at the box for a great while turning his chair away from the direction of the table taking the box with him. He had the box in one hand. He had bought this box after meeting the cattle rancher who tested her cattle for mad cow and the federal government applied a ban on it. They lost that case. It was Alan's case. Denny was still undefeated due to second chairing it. Denny's hazel eyes were glued to the box. Denny slowly slid open the lid.

"Well," Denny said, his eyes on the silver band lacking a diamond. "Who am I going to give this ring to if Alan doesn't come back?"

Denny sighed looking down on the ring.


End file.
